Tribute for Howie Siegel

With contributions from Daniel Montgomery, Naropa Classmate and Nova Scotia friend, brother Bob, and practitioner’s group buddies, Lois Hare, Chris Toplack, Cheendana Martin

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Howie Siegel

Howard Siegel, known to many of his friends as Howie, passed at the Halifax Infirmary on December 29, 2024. He was 82.

Born in New York City to Joseph and Grace Siegel, he was the eldest of 3 children. He is survived by his brother Bob and sister Susan. Howie attended schools for the gifted and transitioned to adulthood in Chicago after his family moved there. His first career
was teaching at Merrimack Community College in Missouri where he also mentored Vietnam Vets. After growing up in urban environments, he moved to a farm in Missouri and for most of the rest of his life was a country dweller.

As recalled by Daniel Montgomery, “Howard showed up from his farm in Missouri for the Psychology Master’s program at Naropa Institute in Boulder, Colorado, summer of 1976, as did I. In his mid-thirties at the time, and ten years older than me, Howie seemed an old soul, carrying (mostly) unspoken ancestral trauma from his Jewish heritage yet he very successfully transitioned to a relaxed country lifestyle. In addition to his practice of meditation, Howie was fond of listening to music and skinny dipping.

In those days he drove a Chevy II station wagon with a bumper sticker that said, “Running on Empty.” Howie was someone who really listened to and contemplated the words of songs from writers like Jackson Browne and Robert Hunter (Grateful Dead lyricist), as poetry, saw the dharma in them, and would often quote them at length.

Fast forward a dozen or so years, Howie and his wife Jaki Connaughton moved to Scots Bay and later Hantsport Nova Scotia. He would stay with my family (Dan) two nights a week in Halifax while working as a substance abuse counselor for the province.
The house in Hantsport later became the site of quarterly men’s gatherings, in which we would, as men do, talk through the world’s problems, discuss the path of dharma, its relevance and evolution, take saunas, and partake of Howie’s massive collection of music and music videos.

When Howie left NS Addiction Services, he worked for a private addiction facility and did EAP work until he fully retired. He was a well-respected clinician.

Howie was devoted to life and living in the Annapolis Valley. He loved the rustic spaciousness of NS and became a Canadian citizen. He led the Shambhala meditation group in Wolfville for years. Early on, he gathered a group of health care providers fondly referred to as Practitioners Group who for over 30 years used a method of peer supervision reflecting body, mind and spirit to support one another in their professional practices. This group became his close circle of friends and together they continue to be dedicated to the continuation of this practice, which is being assessed for inclusion in the curriculum of the Masters in Educational Counseling program at Acadia University.

Howie’s remains were laid to rest during a blizzard at the Burlington Green Burial cemetery on January 3. Ten of his old friends from Naropa and the survivors of his men’s group gathered on Zoom January 5 and spent two and a half hours telling stories,
too many to repeat here.

Howie was not someone who wore his devotion on his sleeve, rather he practiced as a natural expression of his being. Howard and I (Dan) shared an appetite for irreverence, irony, and laughter.

I’ll leave you with a quote that somehow summarizes the Howie I knew. In 1978, as we were graduating from Naropa, we held a dinner party outside on a beautiful summer night. Howie was dressed in a white sportscoat, Hawaiian shirt with the collar outside
the lapels of the sportscoat, and a straw fedora. He raised his glass in a toast, quoting the words of Robert Hunter, the Grateful Dead lyricist:

“Sometimes the light’s all shining on me…
Other times I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me
What a long, strange trip it’s been.”


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Tributes

Judith Smith
6 days ago

I didn't know Howie well, and hadn't seen him in years! Many thanks to the Chronicles for posting their long tribute, with the quote from Dan Montgomery.
Heartfelt farewells to Howie.

Sylvie Stevenson
2 weeks ago

Re-met Howie and (then) wife Jaki after moving to NS in 1990. They kindly invited me for a Thanksgiving dinner that year. We attended 1985 Vajradhatu Seminary together, so a welcome, warm reunion with their other friends at table. Occasionally I sat with the Wolfville Shambhala Group the first decade of the 2000's. Howie processing so many changes then, ever reviewing his life's historic period with much nostalgia, lent me Peter Coyote's recently published bio (Sleeping Where I Fall) focused on his involvement with the West Coast late 60'/1970 counterculture. A good read, it's led me to appreciate Peter's many voiceovers for Ken Burnes documentaries, a recently purchased copy of his Zen in the Vernacular published 2024. I will read it with much appreciation of dharma convergences shared with PC, with Howie and so many dharma brothers and sisters and our teachers, for which I am totally grateful!

Regan Foiles Urbanick
2 weeks ago

The last time I saw you was in San Francisco when I lived on Hartford Street. You took me to dinner in the Castro as you passed through the city. I don't remember what we talked about or what we ate, but I remember resting in your smile and the candlelight softness of your gaze.
We had first met at Naropa in 1976. That summer we hiked up Boulder Creek in companionable silence. You chivalrously handed me up and down the rocks. We had no clothes on. Did we keep our shoes on? I don't remember. I remember the warm blue day, the humming insects, the light shining off the stones, the falling water and that we were drunk and drowsy from the mountain air alone.

I took the photo of you that heads this page . You look tender and amused and brave.
Howie, may you rest in shining luminousity.

Jan Oda-Biro
2 weeks ago

Ah, Howard. Naropa 1976, visit to your farm in Missouri in 1977 on the way back to Naropa, teaching me the beauty of back roads rather than the interstate, the book, The Truck as a paen to old and vintage stuff, trip to Mexico with a stop off at your parents’ home in Arizona, eating fresh fish on the shore of Baja with salsa so hot it created blisters on my lips but couldn’t stop eating it, road trip to Vermont for dathun trying to cross the Bay Bridge with no cash to pay the toll, running out of gas on the NJ turnpike, Boulder working for the mental health center, Wolfville at his home in 2017 where I weeded his yard and he gave me a copy of Katherine Hepburn’s Lion in Winter movie (my favorite movie of all time).
Ah , Howard, what a long strange trip it’s been. See you on the other side 💜

Diane Crawford
3 weeks ago

I got to know Howie a few years after his graduation from Naropa, and mine a year after his. I was Diane Rudine back then.
Howie and I were both looking for a place to live and decided we would do better with a two bedroom place as housemates than each of us going it alone. He worked nights, I worked days and we got along well when we were both home. On one of those nights we had beers and Howie learned I didn't know who Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers were, along with a couple of other musical favorites. He had me lay down on the living room floor just listening to some really great music for hours. For some reason it was a highlight of our time in that place and very special to have Howie's musical tour of some of the greats of that era. We had a very good time as friends in that little north Boulder house.

Thank you Howie. Safe travels through the Bardo. May you have an auspicious rebirth!

Steve Ellenburg-land
3 weeks ago

I met Howie the day after the 1982 seminary ended at the Bedford Springs hotel. I was walking down the wide stairway from the shrine room to the lobby. Someone whom I had not met during the 3 month seminary. We immediately started talking music, particularly Jackson Browne - Late for the Sky. He was obviously a serious student of Jackson, his music and participation his lyrics. Over the next 42 years we would spend many evenings sipping good whiskey and watching music videos mostly singer songwriter from late 60's to recent decades. For Howie good songwriting was a direct expression of the human heart like no other art form. We bonded on that.

Howie and his wife Jackie became my son, Clay's God parents. We were family and spent many evenings having dinner and listening to music. Howie’s library and knowledge of good songwriting was an important influence on Clay who continues to write and perform his own music to this day.

I helped Howard and Jackie move to Nova Scotia in the early 90's. They were serious about being a part of Trump Rinpoche’s vision to lay the foundation for enlightened society. It was rough going that first winter in Scott's Bay. No work, no money, car broke down. Someone gave Howie a car in upstate NY. I was on a moving job to Boulder and gave him a ride to get the car. When we got there, the car wouldn't start. Needed a part. We went to the local diner for coffee. Howie talked about how things couldn't be any worse he didn't realize the obstacles he would encounter starting a new life in Nova Scotia. As we walked toward the cash register to pay our bill, Howie’s pants pocket caught on fire. Apparently he had a packet of matches that rubbed on the striker. After snuffing the fire, we laughed. Yes, things can always get worse-ha ha. A little message from the dralas.

A few years later we went for a beach excursion with Jackie, Steve and Jeanie Mustain, Mark and Carrie Russell, their daughter Molly and Clay. Howard was quite proud of a small rubber raft that he had purchased naming it The Sea Hawk. He invited the kids to go out for a sail, actually a row. He did not notice that the tide was going out. As Mark and I sipped our martinis, we noticed the Sea Hawk growing smaller and smaller in the distance while Howard rowed furiously. Finally after a good laugh Mark and I agreed something need to be done before our children, and Howard were swept out to sea. The shore dropped off very gradually there so I was able to walk out most of the way swam the last part, grabbed the raft and said to Howard "do you need a little help there matey". Howard was embarrassed. His maiden voyage on the Sea Hawk had not gone as planned.

Howard invited me to come to his house for my birthday November 6 this past year. He was an excellent host always. We had our drinks, talked politics, wondered how the dream of the 60's had led to the present political mess. What would happen to Shambhala vision. Then watched some music videos. His health seemed fine.

A month later, three weeks before he passed, I received my last communication from Howard. He knew I had met Kris Kristofferson and thought highly of him. Howard sent me a video of Kris and Roseanne Cash at an outdoor concert shortly before Kris died. Roseanne insisted he come out even though his voice was shot and he had a hard time walking. She put her arm around him and sang one of his songs. The refrain as she looked into Kris's eyes "loving you (her) was easier than anything I'll ever do again". Happy sailin brother.

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